


White Waters

by KuroRiya



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alcohol Abuse, Alternate Universe - Merpeople, It's actually not sad I promise, Loneliness, M/M, Matthew's just a little depressed at the beginning, Survival, TW: depressed thoughts, bit of hurt and comfort kind of, lost at sea, stolen yachts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-03
Updated: 2014-03-03
Packaged: 2018-01-14 10:25:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1262821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuroRiya/pseuds/KuroRiya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being practically invisible can be lonely and infuriating. Who could really blame Matthew for taking a boat out and spending a night getting wasted? But maybe he should have considered his knowledge of the ocean, or lack thereof, before he managed to get himself hopelessly lost on the open sea. If he's lucky, maybe someone, or something, will save him in time. MerAU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	White Waters

Everyone always told him it was a bad idea to get drunk before going fishing. He'd, of course, heard the horror stories about people that fell overboard and drowned or froze to death. He knew of a few that had gone to sea and never returned. It was something that was considered common sense.

But he was mad. Matthew Williams, mad? Right, it was a crazy thought, according to everyone who knew him. To the people around him, Matthew was mild-mannered, quiet, and forgettable. Even his own brother practically forgot he existed almost constantly. But, as far as everyone was aware, Matthew didn't really mind. He was made of tough enough stuff that he wasn't affected.

Frankly, that was bullshit.

Matthew, just like anyone else, had plenty of feelings. Just because his voice was softer than most did not mean that he couldn't feel hurt, or angry, or spiteful. People just noticed it less. Even if he stormed through the subway stations or shouted at his walls, no one was any the wiser.

And that only made him angrier. But who was to listen to him? No one. And so, instead of tearing things apart, like Alfred would do, or screaming at someone, like Arthur would do, or making some elaborate revenge scheme, like Francis would do, he bought a cheap bottle of hard whiskey and borrowed Alfred's old fishing boat. It's not as if his brother had touched it in years.

He steered it out a ways, laying back and watching the stars, sipping at the bottle pretty frequently, feeling his buzz quickly enough. He let the waves rock him gently, though he didn't doze off. Maybe he should feel sick, but it only filled him with pleasant memories of when he was younger, and not as overlooked.

They used to go out on a boat similar to this one on the odd weekend they all had the time. None of them was very good at fishing, not even Alfred, who liked to boast about his catches regardless. Matthew had never been much of a fan of the sport, but he enjoyed spending time with his family, as disfunctional as it was. When they were packed into the little boat, they had an easier time of remembering him. He did take up space, after all.

When he crossed the boundary between buzzed and tipsy, he wasn't sure, nor was he sure when tipsy melted into drunk. He knew he was though, the wobbly world only getting wobblier as he tried to get his bearings. After nearly falling over the short railing, he decided it would be best to remain sitting down for the duration of his drunkenness.

His anger had, by then, waned. But he still had half a bottle and an entire weekend, so he set to finishing it off, taking the quiet time to contemplate his existence. What path had he gone down that led him to such a lonely life? When was the last time he'd been on a date? Probably high school, if he remembered correctly, and only because Alfred had forced him into a double date in his nervousness.

The girl hadn't called him back, he remembered with a sigh. That was alright, she wasn't his type. He wasn't anybody's type. Not the pretty girl that ran the flower shop, nor the handsome man that owned the flower shop. Maybe he should stop going to flower shops. He didn't have anyone to buy flowers for anyway, not really. It was nice to pretend though.

He rolled over, staring at the bottle in his hand. He'd had so much of it, yet it still seemed just as full as a few hours ago. It was curious thing. At least the amber liquid was pretty to look at, he mused, taking another drink. And the world got that much blurrier, until he was seeing stars, and then nothing at all.

-.-.-+-.-.-

Matthew was relieved when he woke to find himself not dead. In fact, he was still in the boat, much to his delight. He could tell, from the lingering headache, that he'd gotten quite messed up the night before. He couldn't remember finishing off the bottle. He couldn't remember taking his shirt or his pants off. He couldn't remember where his other shoe had gone, nor why he had a fishing glove on one hand.

But at least he hadn't left the boat, and at least he hadn't drowned. That was a definite start. Now he needed to find his clothes, and take the boat back to Alfred's dock. He got up, taking the glove off of his hand and heading for the steering wheel. But he realized, with a bit of horror, that this wasn't Alfred's boat at all. Blinking a few times, and readjusting his glasses, he looked again. Nope, still not the right boat.

He quickly went to the side, leaning over to look at the side of the boat. It was much bigger than Alfred's. Looking at the design, he'd even say it could be a yacht. Where had he acquired a yacht? Where were his clothes? He couldn't run around in his boxers! Not on a yacht! He went to the tallest part of the ship, looking out across the water in search of his brother's boat. But there weren't any boats in sight, let alone the little one he was looking for.

He frowned. He hadn't been very far out the night before, and he'd been anchored in place. How did he even get to this yacht in the first place? Even if it had been at the dock, he shouldn't have been there. What exactly had he done after he blacked out? Absolutely nothing good, it would seem.

With more than a little dismay, he noticed that the yacht, of course, was moving. It was slow without the aid of the motor or sails, but he was drifting enough that he could tell. Where was he? Obviously relatively far from shore, but in which direction? Which way was the current flowing? He'd never bothered to learn them. Which direction did the sun set in? He was beginning to think he should have paid more attention when Alfred was gushing about his time in the scouts.

It took him a few minutes of panic to calm himself down and focus his mind. Once he was in some semblance of his right mind, he began searching the boat for a compass, or a map, or some emergency supplies, or something. Anything.

He found his other shoe.

Growling in growing frustration, he flopped down, unsure of what he should do in this situation. Obviously the current was pulling him away, so should he go in against it? Or maybe he'd steered against the current while he was blacked out, and it was now taking him back towards shore? He didn't know what to do, and fear was starting to well up in his stomach.

What was he thinking, going out on a boat, alone, in the middle of the night, with intentions of getting drunk? He should have known better. If he'd been a seaman, then maybe he'd have an idea what to do. But no, Matthew didn't have any real experience with boats, or navigation, or even a sense of direction. He had no real survival knowledge, at least where the ocean was concerned. It wasn't his brightest idea, to say the least.

At a loss, and now quite terrified, he could do nothing but wait and hope. Hope that he was heading home and not further away. Hope that he'd get somewhere, anywhere, before he starved or dehydrated. He'd dehydrate pretty quickly with all that alcohol in his system.

That thought only scared him more, so he tried to push it to the back of his mind, but the sudden burning in his throat became a persistent reminder.

While he drifted, he raked his brain for anything that might help him. Any scrap of knowledge or instinct that he could grasp onto and pull himself out of hopelessness with. The sun set in the East, or was it West? It was one of the two. But which direction was shore? That would have been helpful to know.

Then he noticed how hot it was, and nearly cried as he imagined the sunburns he was likely to start developing anytime now. He began lifting seats and opening any compartment he could find, hoping for sunscreen. Finally, he got his break, finding not only a bottle of sunscreen, but a few bottles of water and some granola bars. The water was hot, and didn't feel very refreshing as it went down, but it was water, so at least he wouldn't dehydrate immediately.

He munched down one of the granola bars too, after covering himself in a decent layer of sunscreen. He could already see some redness on his shoulders and stomach, but it could have been much worse, for sure. Thank goodness the yacht owners were at least a little prepared. If only they'd packed a compass. Or a cellphone. That'd be nice.

He let the boat drift for hours, until the sun was starting to set. Still no land in sight. That didn't bode well. If he wasn't drifting closer, then that meant he was getting further away, didn't it? Or was he just that far out? Should he try going the other direction, or should he continue following the current, hoping he was getting closer, or nearing some other shore?

For once in his life, he wished there was someone there to make the decisions for him. At least that way, if he did die, he wouldn't be responsible for it. But that was a cowardly way of thinking, he reminded himself. Maybe that's why nobody paid him attention. He was a coward.

Deciding the damage was done, he opted to just go to sleep and hope things looked better in the morning. What else could he do, really?

-.-.-+-.-.-

He woke as the boat jostled, and he snapped to attention, heart full of hope that he'd found land. But, as his eyes circled the area around the yacht, he found no land at all. Not even any jagged rocks or anything. What had made the boat move that way, then? Sharks? Whales? Dolphins? Krakens?

He had to force himself to remain calm. It was probably just a violent wave. Probably.

Still, he was awake now, even though dawn hadn't even entirely broken. It was still dark and the water ominous, and nervous butterflies rose in his stomach as he looked at the inky vastness. So he tried to focus on what was inside the boat instead, getting a drink from his small collection of bottles, chewing at half of a granola bar.

But it happened again, that jostling. From the right side, he could feel it. Not strong enough to tip the boat, of course, but strong enough to nearly startle him out of his seat. After making sure it was stable again, he rushed over to the other side, cautiously peeking over the edge and down to the water. Was he running into rocks underneath or something? That could be bad, definitely. But he couldn't see any poking out, which he surely should have.

Finally, he saw something in the water. It was just a flash, but he could make out the sleek skin of some marine animal. And then it came again, a silvery peek of white just below the surface of the deep navy color of the water.

Matthew bit his lip. He hadn't seen a dorsal fin, so it probably wasn't a shark or dolphin. He could only assume that it wasn't big enough to be any kind of whale, though it must have been pretty large to move his boat like that. It was no dinghy.

He yelped as the shaking came from the other side, dropping down to the floor in a bid to keep from capsizing. He managed to look over just as the creature passed back to the other side, glimpsing only a tail, and groaned as the boat was shoved from the other side again.

Was he being toyed with, seriously? As if he wasn't miserable enough? Even the sea life was trying to make his day just that much worse! What could he do to stop the thing? Would it eventually get bored of his boat and leave him alone, or would it not be satisfied till it had knocked it over? As far as Matthew was aware, most sea creatures had little to no interest in such things, nor the capacity for malice. Yet, as the boat rocked dangerously, coming closer to tipping over each time, he began to question how much he truly knew about marine life.

Getting fed up with this game, he crawled over to the side that was due to be jostled, staring down into the water in hopes of at least getting a better look at his assailant. But the jostling didn't come, even as the silvery shape appeared on the left side, exactly where Matthew was looking. Still, the water was warping the form, and he wasn't sure what he was looking at. Only that it was big. Not as overwhelmingly huge as a whale, but bigger than he was.

He fell backwards in surprise when the creature poked its head out of the water, heart racing because it had looked human, of all things. But no, no, he wasn't so crazy as to believe in mermaids, and he wasn't desperate enough for company to suspend his disbelief. He forced himself to breathe, to simply inhale and exhale, until he wasn't freaking out so badly.

Then he got up to chance another glance over the side. He felt relief swell in his stomach when he saw nothing down there. The shaking had stopped too. That was good, for sure. But then, he had to admit, it was also a little disappointing. He wondered what the creature really was, and why it had been messing with the boat. Admittedly, it would be pretty cool to be the one to discover mermaids, even if they weren't real.

This time he screamed when the head poked out, the sleek body following behind under the water. That was definitely human. But that wasn't possible. No. Not possible. Mermaids weren't real.

But the little sliver of tail that barely broke the surface would say otherwise. And still, there was that face. Two eyes, a nose, lips… Everything that made a human face. And shoulders too. Matthew stared for what must have been minutes, the… Thing keeping easy pace with the drifting yacht.

"You…" He breathed, looking down at the creature. "Are definitely not a mermaid… Er… Man. You are a seal, or a dolphin, or a tuna, or whatever swims around here, and I am dehydrated and crazy." He announced, frowning. Imagine his surprise when the seal-dolphin-tuna cackled, actually cackled!

Matthew yelped, backing away as quickly as he could, planting himself in the very center of the boat, as if not seeing the creature would make it not exist. Merpeople weren't real. Everyone knew it was just a silly story. No one had ever actually seen them. They didn't make sense. They couldn't exist. It was impossible.

"Come back over here!" A voice called, and Matthew flinched. "Or I'll tip you over!" It warned. Matthew's stomach sank, and he quickly scrambled back to the edge, lest his ship do the same. The face was waiting for him, and it smirked when he poked his head just over the railing.

Apparently not allowed to move, he stared instead, taking in the white hair, the red eyes, the silvery tail swishing lazily under the body of a man. He was broad but lean, with pearly white teeth that shone in the slowly rising sun peeking out between his lips.

"Don't disappear like that. Like you said, you're crazy and dehydrated!" He said. Matthew winced at the strangeness of the voice, nasally and a bit harsh in its pronunciation of the words, as if he was foreign to the English language. Well, chances were, he spoke some kind of fish language. Maybe. Matthew didn't know how merpeople worked, seeing as they weren't real.

"U-Um… I might not be. I mean, I have water. Uh, the not salty kind. I can't drink saltwater. Wow, you're real, aren't you? Um… Wow…" He rambled, mind a blur as he finally accepted his discovery. The merman laughed again.

"I'm not stupid. I know you can't drink seawater." He said, and Matthew's brows furrowed.

"H-How do you know?" He asked.

"I know plenty about humans. I'm awesome like that." The merman replied, as if it was common knowledge. Matthew quirked a brow.

"I thought merpeople were supposed to be, you know, kind of in the dark about human activity." He offered. Of course, he was basing this on a Disney movie, so who knew how reliable his information was. The merman cackled again.

"How could we be? You humans seem to think you own everything, including the ocean. Can't tell you how many times I've seen ships coming through here. And you throw your trash in here too. That's not very awesome of you. But you can learn a lot from the waste of another species." He pointed out, face smug. Matthew frowned.

"Things like how to sound like an asshole when you talk?" He wondered sarcastically. The merman growled, actually growled, and Matthew shrunk back. "S-Sorry, I'm not used to people actually hearing the things I say…" He mumbled. The merman seemed to have calmed down already.

"Why not?" He asked, as if he genuinely cared. Matthew wasn't used to that.

"U-Um, I'm kind of soft-spoken, and forgettable. That's not important though. You… You're a merman!" He breathed, taking in the form again. The other rolled his eyes.

"We've established that. I know it's cool, but let's move on." He suggested. Matthew was about to ask what he meant, but the merman disappeared, sinking into the water. Blinking, he tried to follow the form, but it quickly melted away as it got deeper into the water. He sighed. Maybe that was all he'd see of the creature.

The yacht shook threateningly, but this time towards the rear, and Matthew's eyes darted over just in time to see the merman heaving himself onto the floor. Water followed his body and flowed over to Matthew's feet, cold to the touch. Matthew himself was already frozen though, now on a ship carrying a merman who may or may not want to do terrible things to him.

"Uh…" He stuttered, backing up slowly. There wasn't really much room to back up in though. It wasn't a huge boat. The merman was flexing his shoulders, pale tail glimmering in the dawn, white scales looking almost translucent, taking on an orange hue from the sun.

After situating himself, the merman offered another grin.

"This is my first time on a boat." He explained, dragging himself closer, examining things as he went. Matthew could only watch, unsure of what he should do in that situation. A merman, MERMAN, was scooting closer to him with each passing second, and he was not only huge, he was albino, and Matthew wasn't sure why that mattered, but it definitely did, and he was only in his boxers for maple's sake!

"You have a name?" The merman wondered, lifting the faux-leather seats a few times, looking into the hidden compartments with obvious amazement. Matthew only gaped until he was fixed with an expectant gaze.

"M-Matthew." He finally replied, and the merman nodded.

"Not bad. My name's better though. Gilbert." He offered. Matthew didn't show any reaction, which seemed to displease the merman. "It's awesome, right?" He prompted. Matthew only nodded shakily, unable to form words. That was apparently enough though, for Gilbert went back to exploring the yacht.

Once he'd had his fill, he flopped his way over to Matthew, and the poor guy nearly lost it watching the strange wiggling. But it worked, and the merman was before him. He noticed, with dismay, the silvery tail had created something of a half circle, trapping him against the edge of the boat he'd been occupying.

"So, what's someone doing out this far?" Gilbert wondered. Matthew got lost for a moment, taking in new features, now that the merman was closer. His eyes were really red! He wasn't sure if that was scary or interesting. He started leaning towards the former as the eyes narrowed.

"You know, it's not awesome to ignore people." Gilbert pointed out, and Matthew winced. He, more than anyone, knew that to be true.

"I-I'm sorry." He apologized quickly, trying to calm down. "Um, I'm kind of lost. I fell asleep and drifted off, and I have no idea where I am, or how to get back. I've been like this for… Two days now." He explained. Gilbert looked him up and down, smirking when he'd finished.

"Didja eat your clothes or something? Humans usually cover more than that." He mused. Matthew flushed, trying to cover himself the best he could with his arms.

"I-I don't know what happened to them. I woke up like this." He explained. Gilbert whistled lowly.

"Hell of a sleep, sounds like. Quit trying to cover yourself." He said. It sounded casual, but Matthew got the feeling it wasn't really a request. He did as he was told, just in case. It wasn't like Gilbert was better dressed anyway.

Deciding that Gilbert most likely didn't mean any immediate harm, Matthew slid down to sit, drawing his knees against his chest. They fell to staring at each other for a few minutes, no words traded while they took a moment to really grasp each other's anatomy and appearance. Matthew wondered what the merman thought of him. Was that silly?

The silence was broken as Gilbert once again cackled. Matthew jumped nearly out of his skin, backing up against the edge without any success. He was fixed with a smirk as the merman began speaking.

"I'll take you back to land." He announced, and, for the first time in ages, Matthew's heart filled with hope. He even chanced a small smile. But that smirk was still in place. "On one condition." And there went the hope.

He eyed the merman, wondering what his condition could possibly be. What could a merman even want from a human? Forks? Well, whatever the condition, he'd have to agree. How else was he to get home?

"Alright, what's your condition?" He asked, caution on his tone. Gilbert grinned.

"You have to be my mate." He said, as if it was as simple as that. Matthew, after gaping for a good five seconds, stood up and promptly began rolling the merman off of his stolen yacht. Too surprised to really react, Gilbert ended up back in the ocean, sputtering and looking up at the blonde in shock.

"No thank you." Matthew offered, walking towards the steering wheel. He had every intention of turning on the motor and getting the fuck out before Gilbert could climb back into the boat. He rotated the key once, twice, three times. The engine sputtered, refusing to start. Out of gas. Of course.

Before he could even properly freak out, Gilbert was already hefting himself back up, bringing with him more water. Matthew winced, now very afraid for his life. But Gilbert didn't seem mad, only amused. He made himself comfortable, resting his chin on his folded arms as he looked up at Matthew.

Without fuel, what choice did Matthew have? He didn't know where he was going, which direction he'd come from, and he knew his already dwindling supplies wouldn't last him more than two more days, at best. He needed help, and Gilbert was the only… Humanoid creature he was likely to run into before he starved or dehydrated to death. What other choice did he really have?

Ever cautious, he climbed down, facing the merman again. Gilbert looked pleased.

"…What exactly would being your mate entail?" He asked carefully. Gilbert's grin was of the shit-eating variety.

"Oh, you know; romance, swimming, eggs." He replied. Matthew sighed, sinking down again and pinching the bridge of his nose underneath his glasses.

"Look, you realize I'm a male human, correct?" He wondered. Gilbert laughed.

"I was kidding!" He snorted, dragging himself till he was right in front of the poor man. "About the eggs anyway." He added under his breath. Matthew tried to shrink away, but found himself trapped once again by the tail. He shuddered as the merman hoisted himself up, and screwed his eyes shut. If he was being honest, he'd expected Gilbert to force a kiss on him, but he gasped as, instead of that, there was a sudden weight in his lap.

Opening his eyes, he found the merman spread out against his legs, reclining as if he owned the place, grinning up at the blonde. Matthew looked down, flinching as his aggressor reached up a hand and… Touched his hair. Okay, that wasn't so bad.

"So, Matthew, do we have a deal?" Gilbert wondered, and Matthew, after a moment, nodded. It was hesitant, and he already regretted it, but it was done. The merman whooped triumphantly, kicking his tail up in his excitement. He calmed down when Matthew cringed away from it, though. He could tell it was powerful and didn't want to risk getting hit with it, accidentally or otherwise.

"Sorry." Gilbert offered, stilling himself. "I got excited. Lud is gonna be so jealous!" He gushed. Matthew wondered who Lud was, but opted not to ask. He was still unsure of what exactly he'd just agreed to.

Gilbert simply lay in his lap for a while, staring up at him, grinning on occasion, touching his hair or his face when he saw fit. He seemed to realize, at some point, that Matthew was probably curious about him too, and got up, maneuvering a bit and then plopping the bulk of his tail in the man's lap. Matthew gasped, but eventually convinced his shaking hands to touch the smooth scales. He'd expected them to be a bit warm, but they were surprisingly cool to the touch. It felt nice though, contrasting with the heat of the sun bearing down on him already.

He explored the tail a bit, touching the fin at the bottom, then the smaller ones near his hips. But, after a while, he remembered that he should be putting sunscreen on, and he shoved the tail out of his lap, scrambling to get to the oily lotion before the sun could do any more damage than it already had. He didn't have time to see the hurt look cross over Gilbert's face.

He finally found the bottle, opening it and pouring a decent amount into his hand, quickly rubbing it into his skin, focusing on his shoulders and face. If he survived this, he was going to have so many freckles for a while.

"What's that stuff?" Gilbert wondered, running a few fingers along the arm Matthew had just covered. His nose wrinkled and he withdrew his fingers, sniffing them. He stuck his tongue out.

"Sunscreen." Matthew explained, smoothing some down his legs too. "It protects my skin from the sun." He explained, looking over. He winced as he realized, with a bit of shock, that Gilbert's shoulders were starting to look a little red too. Of course! He looked to be albino! What was he thinking, spending so much time in the sun?

"Um, I think you might want some too, if you're going to stay up here." He pointed out, pressing on the reddening skin. Gilbert watched in fascination as white fingerprints were left when Matthew removed his fingers. "You're already burning." He added. Gilbert only nodded, holding his arms out expectantly.

Matthew realized that he was expected to put it on for him, and sighed, squirting more into his hands. He took a breath before getting to work, working the lotion into the pale skin, starting with his back. It felt a little different from his, but not unpleasant. Gilbert, at least, seemed to be enjoying the treatment.

"That feels awesome." He cooed, wriggling a bit under Matthew's hands. The man allowed himself a small giggle, but nearly fell over as Gilbert turned around. "Your laugh is awesome too." He announced, and Matthew felt his cheeks flushing. It was the sun. Definitely.

Shaking his head, he came around to the front side, smearing the lotion against high cheekbones, down his nose. Gilbert closed his eyes as he was worked on, smiling. It wasn't a grin though, just a smile, like he was genuinely enjoying the attention. He probably was.

He had to get some more before he could work on the merman's chest, and nearly lost his nerve until Gilbert opened his eyes, looking at him pointedly. Resigning himself yet again, Matthew got back to work, starting at the shoulders, and rubbing in a little extra there, just in case, then spread it down the toned chest. Gilbert's abdominal muscles quivered a bit as Matthew worked the lotion into them, but he chose not to acknowledge it, grabbing the merman's arms and rubbing what was left down them. Who even had abdominal muscles strong enough to quiver like that? As a merman, though, he probably used his abs a lot. Putting it from his mind, he finished with the backs of Gilbert's hands.

He was about to retreat, but Gilbert grabbed his hands just as he'd finished applying the sunscreen, and forced him to stay put.

"How does this stuff work?" He wondered, looking down at his now oily skin. Matthew winced, guessing he probably hated the feeling. Matthew always had.

"It's made of stuff that blocks the sun rays, and other stuff that absorbs it, so that not as much gets to your skin. It's really useful for someone like you." He explained, tugging a bit in a bid to free his hands, to no avail.

Gilbert hummed, showing his interest, then yanked Matthew closer, closing him up with his arms.

"Am I strange to you too?" He asked, and Matthew looked up from where he was currently trapped. He blinked, taking in Gilbert's face. While he was trying not to show emotion, he could see that the question meant a lot to the merman. He thought over his answer carefully. The white, fluttering eyelashes struck him as rather pretty. He had to remind himself to focus.

"Well, I don't know what it's like for you under the sea with the… Other merpeople…" He trailed, having to convince himself that, if there was one, there were likely many. "But you have what we humans call albinism. It's not common or anything, but I don't think it makes you strange. It happens pretty frequently in other animals, and there are a few albino people here and there." He offered. "It's genetic, just like me having blonde hair and pale skin. It is a mutation, sure, but it's still just different traits. Instead of blonde, you have white hair and… Paler skin." He added. Gilbert seemed to like his answer, nuzzling into his blonde waves, as if they were the water he normally swam. And suddenly Matthew got the feeling that, maybe, Gilbert was almost as lonely as he was.

"You're eyes are almost pink, like mine." He pointed out, and Matthew looked up, surprised.

"Most people say blue." He admitted, cheeks feeling warm again. No one ever really paid enough attention to notice that his eyes were an unusual shade. Gilbert looked down into them, looking closer.

"Nah, more violet, actually, now that I'm closer. That's pretty awesome! It's a nice color." He said, grinning. Matthew looked away, not really sure why that made his heart flutter. It was just the color of his eyes. He already knew that information. Still, even if he was crazy and a bit demanding, Gilbert was taking the time to notice things about him, which was more than any human had ever done. Even Alfred still thought his eyes were blue, even after sharing a room for years.

They sat together, Matthew too scared to pry himself away from the merman's embrace. But, eventually, Gilbert let him go, and pulled himself over to the back of the boat, beckoning the man over. It seemed like he wanted Matthew to see something, so he came over, curious, but immediately regretted it when he found himself landing face-first in the blueness of the ocean.

He surfaced, sputtering, and tried to swim back to the boat. But Gilbert had slid in behind him, and circled around, halting his attempt to climb back in. Matthew flailed, trying to shake the crazed merman off. What was he thinking, tossing him in like that? He could drown! He could get eaten by sharks!

"Calm down!" Gilbert shouted, holding a struggling Matthew at arm's length, tail swishing lazily to keep them above water. Matthew tried, realizing that, for the time being, he wasn't drowning. "I told you swimming was part of the deal." The merman reminded him, and Matthew frowned.

"Some warning might have been nice!" He scolded, pouting at the paler. He took a moment to look through his now speckled glasses, thankful they'd stayed on his face when he fell. "And can't it wait till we're closer to land? I don't want to get eaten by sharks!"

Gilbert laughed, drawing him further away from the boat.

"Do you really think I'd let my mate get eaten by sharks?" He wondered. Matthew blinked, letting Gilbert guide him away. He only realized when he was a few yards away that this was probably the worst thing he could have done. Weren't merpeople infamous for luring humans to their deaths? But, so far, Gilbert had shown no signs that he meant any real harm. Yet.

So he followed, trying to kick his legs to keep up. He wasn't doing much good, knowing he was only going so fast because Gilbert was pulling him along. Then, quite suddenly, he was pulled underwater. This, of course, alarmed him, and he fought to get back to the surface. Gilbert, after a moment, let him go. He waited till Matthew had finished spitting out water and gasping to say anything.

"Sorry, I forgot humans can't breathe underwater." He said, and the sentiment reached his eyes, making it obvious that he truly meant his apology. Matthew sighed, kicking idly.

"Saltwater hurts my eyes too." He added, then gasped. "My glasses!" He cried, touching the empty space where the frames should have been. Of course they wouldn't stay on the second time! The blurriness, now that he was paying attention, was already beginning to grate on his nerves. There were few things that bothered Matthew as much as not being able to see.

Gilbert frowned, looking at the space that Matthew was fingering. Then he disappeared, leaving the blonde to tread water by himself. Panic set in when nearly two minutes had passed with no sign of the merman, and Matthew nervously sought out his yacht. Without his glasses though, everything was a blur.

He never thought he'd be so happy to kind of see Gilbert, but he swam over immediately when the white head of hair surfaced a few feet away. Well, he assumed it was Gilbert. Who else could it be? He was handed his glasses, which he quickly put back on, breathing a sigh of relief when everything came back into focus for him. The boat wasn't that far away, now that he could see it.

"What are those for?" Gilbert asked, taking his hand again and pulling him along in wide circles.

"To help me see. Everything is blurry without them." He explained, taking the other hand that Gilbert offered him.

"Oh. That doesn't sound fun." The merman mused, frowning. Matthew shrugged as best he could with his arms being pulled on.

"It's just life. I've had them since I was little." He explained. Gilbert nodded.

"I like the way you look with them on." He announced, and Matthew's eyes widened. "I mean, I like it either way. But they make your eyes look really big." He elaborated.

"Um… Thanks."

It was quiet while they swam, and Gilbert would pull them closer to the boat on occasion, making sure it was never too far away. That helped calm Matthew's nerves, so he let himself enjoy the feeling of gliding effortlessly through the water. It was actually pretty nice, especially since he didn't really have to do much but hold onto Gilbert's hands. The coolness of the water did wonders for his hot skin, and he could feel his muscles relaxing as he drifted whichever direction Gilbert pulled him in.

The merman seemed to be enjoying himself too, even if he couldn't pull the man underwater. He'd laugh sometimes when Matthew got a face full of water, or if he'd slip out of his grasp and end up yards behind in mere seconds. But he always came back for him, pulling him along and purposely swimming him through seaweed that gave him the heebie-jeebies.

And then, all of a sudden, Gilbert stopped short, pausing, then sinking into the water. Matthew kicked his legs to keep himself up, looking around to see where Gilbert had gone to. Should he start swimming towards the boat? Had the merman bored of him?

But no, he surface again quickly enough. However, instead of the easy smile of before, his face looked worried, and he wrapped an arm around Matthew's waist, kicking his tail much harder than before, startling Matthew with the speed they suddenly picked up.

"G-Gilbert?" He called, but he was seemingly ignored. They were heading to the boat, and Gilbert wasn't slowing down, as if they couldn't get there fast enough. But what was the problem? He looked out across the water, trying to spot what could possibly be amiss. And, for a moment, he couldn't see anything. Then he started to notice that some of the waves weren't waves at all, but fins.

His stomach dropped. Sharks? Seriously? But weren't sharks pretty apathetic towards humans? And did they travel in packs?

"Gilbert, what-" he began, but he was cut off.

"Dolphins." Was the only response he got. Then they made it to the yacht, and he was tossed, rather unceremoniously, into it. After rolling back onto his stomach, he turned back around. Dolphins? Weren't dolphins harmless? They were always so cute when he saw them in waterparks or aquariums. What was Gilbert so worked up about?

The merman in question heaved himself up into the boat as well, turning around to glare at the relatively large pod. It was heading straight for them, and Matthew yelped as the boat rocked, the motion violent and threatening. If he'd thought Gilbert was going to tip his yacht, then the dolphins were going to totally destroy it. And, for some reason, they didn't pass them by. They stopped, prodding at the metal.

Some would consider him lucky to be that close, but, on a tiny boat in the middle of the ocean, he felt more terrified than fascinated. What would happen if the boat did capsize? He'd be liable to drown. What did dolphins even eat?

Gilbert growled, launching himself into the water again, and Matthew watched him go with apprehension. He didn't see much of it, since a lot was underwater, but he could tell that Gilbert had just declared a war on the pod, and they weren't taking kindly to it.

By the time the dolphins finally dispersed, splashing as they swam away, Matthew was concerned for Gilbert's safety. He'd witnessed a few bites, to say the least. He waited to make sure the boat wasn't going to be subject to any further swaying, then went to the edge, trying to find Gilbert. He finally located his silvery form, and tossed his glasses onto one of the seats carelessly, diving in and swimming to him.

He had to sink into the water, but as soon as his hands found purchase, he began tugging the other male towards the surface. Gilbert was heavy; more so than he'd anticipated, but he managed to pull him up. He couldn't do much but gasp for air for a few seconds, but then he started pulling the merman closer to the ship, panting when he finally reached it. He held onto the side to keep himself up, the other arm looped securely around Gilbert's torso, keeping his head up as well.

"Gilbert? Gil?" He called, and the merman blinked lazily, as if it was hard. "Hey, come on, please. At least get back into the boat?" He begged. Gilbert nodded, and Matthew let go of him and heaved himself up. Gilbert tried his best to follow, but fell back into the water. Matthew could see that he was exhausted, but was too scared to leave him in the water by himself.

"One more time, Gil." He plead. The merman gave it another attempt, and this time Matthew tried to help, pulling on his shoulders with all his might. He fell over as Gilbert's weight finally tipped over the lip of the boat, and they rocked for a moment before stilling. Then he was up again, pulling Gilbert closer to the center. It was hard, but he managed it, making sure his tail was fully inside as well.

He helped him flip over to lie on his back, and winced at the serrated marks on his arms and a few darkening bruises along his chest. Alright, so, dolphins weren't as cute as he thought.

"Gil? Hey, are you okay?" He asked, already getting up in hopes of finding the first aid kit he'd seen at some point. He began pulling the seats up, finally finding the correct one and grabbing the little tin box. "Talk to me, please." He plead, flipping the clasps open and digging through the entirely pristine kit. He located some rubbing alcohol and gauze, and turned back to Gilbert. The merman groaned, but at least it was something.

"Gil, come on. Words. I need to know what's wrong." He prompted. More groaning.

"I'm fine, just tired." Gilbert huffed, breathing a bit shaky. "Dolphins are assholes." He added. Matthew allowed himself a small smile.

"Alright. I'm going to clean these bites out a bit, okay? It's going to sting." He warned, pouring some of the alcohol into some gauze and dabbing it at the wounds. Gilbert hissed, withdrawing the arm that he'd been working on. Matthew rolled his eyes, tugging it back towards him and continuing with his cleaning. Gilbert continued whining, but let him do what he needed to.

After he'd cleaned them off, he grabbed a bottle of water and splashed the wounds a bit to clean the alcohol out as well, then pulled Gilbert towards the front of the boat, where the seawater they'd dragged on was the shallowest. He wondered how long it would take to evaporate.

Deciding he'd done all he could, he sat down next to the merman, running fingers through his hair. What did mermen do when they were injured? Would Gilbert heal properly if he was in the ocean water? And if he had to remain in the boat to heal, how was Matthew to get home? He'd run out of food before Gilbert would heal, if that were the case. It's not like a box of granola bars would keep him alive long.

But he tried to put it from his mind. Gilbert had just exhausted himself in a war with dolphins to keep Matthew safe. He owed him more than a little gratitude. But he didn't really know what else he could do for the merman, so he simply sat near him, letting a tired hand take his as Gilbert napped for a few hours. He watched the water and the sun while he waited to fall asleep as well, or for Gilbert to wake up, whichever happened first.

-.-.-+-.-.-

As it would turn out, he fell asleep first. He woke to some gentle shaking, opening his eyes slowly. He blinked a few times, frowning when things didn't focus. Then his glasses were slid onto his face, gently, and the world came into view. Gilbert was across from him, still holding one of his hands, and he was smiling. That was definitely an improvement.

Matthew smiled back, yawning.

"Are you feeling better?" He wondered, looking at the arms he'd tended to. They already looked better than before, not so swollen. And the wounds were already closing up, to his relief.

"Much better. Sorry for passing out. Fighting with dolphins is not awesome." He grumbled, the end of his tail slapping against the floor in irritation. Matthew chuckled.

"So it would seem. Thank you, by the way. I think you saved me, so I owe you pretty big now." He admitted. Gilbert laughed, scooting closer to wrap him in a hug.

"You're my mate. Of course I saved you." He pointed out, and Matthew reminded his heart to calm the fuck down. Gilbert probably didn't mean anything by it.

"Well, I still appreciate it." He replied, resting his chin in the crook of the paler male's neck. It was nice to be held like that, like he actually mattered.

"Can I have a kiss then?" Gilbert wondered, pulling back to smirk at him. Matthew swallowed a little too harshly, eyes going wide. The words from earlier ran through his mind.

Romance, swimming, eggs. He was kidding about the eggs. Not the romance or the swimming.

But he had saved his life, and that was surely worthy of a reward. And, if a kiss was all he wanted, then really, why couldn't Matthew give it to him? He'd definitely earned it.

With a deep breath, he lurched forward, pressing his lips to the pale, smirking ones, tasting the salt as Gilbert, after a moment of surprise, wrapped his arms around the smaller frame, pulling him closer. It wasn't a very long kiss, but they both pulled away breathless.

"That…" Gilbert began, breathing shakily. "Was awesome." He announced. Matthew blushed, pushing the merman away.

"Oh hush. I've had about as much romance and horror as I can handle for one day." He groused, scrubbing his hands over his hot face. Gilbert laughed, scooting to sit next to him instead. Matthew got up and fished one of the granola bars out, deciding he'd earned his own reward. He sat back down next to Gilbert, tearing the packaging open. He began to munch at it, then noticed the not so subtle staring coming from a certain half-fish companion of his, and he sighed, breaking off half of the bar and handing the other half to Gilbert.

The merman sniffed at it first, then nibbled at the corner. He obviously didn't know what to think about it, but he continued biting off little pieces and chewing them slowly.

"What is this?" He demanded, taking another bite.

"A granola bar." Matthew replied, swallowing his own bite. "These ones are made out of oats and peanut butter. I really hope you aren't allergic to peanuts…" He groaned.

"What's peanuts?" Gilbert asked. Well, he'd be of no use. Matthew would just have to hope he was lucky.

"Um… They're a type of nut. Which is part of a plant. Um… Let's just say, they are tasty, and the only food I have. That's what a granola bar is." He decided. Who knew that a granola bar would prove a complicated topic of conversation?

"Oh!" Gilbert gasped, quickly handing what was left of his half back, earning a raised brow.

"Do you not like it?" Matthew wondered.

"No, but it's all you have to eat!" He exclaimed, looking very much like he was about to try to return what he'd already eaten. Matthew shrugged.

"It's alright, I have a few left. And I can try to catch some fish, if I need to. I'm more worried about water, honestly." He explained, but Gilbert refused to take it back, and he eventually ate that share as well.

"I'll take you back." The merman announced, flopping over onto his stomach.

"H-Hey, not yet you won't!" Matthew cried, getting up and sitting on his back to halt his progress toward the back of the boat. "Let yourself heal up at least a little longer!" He insisted, pulling the other male back to the other side and forcing him to relax again.

"I told you I was fine." Gilbert grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

"And I told you you were going to wait a while longer. Just until tomorrow, okay? It'll make me feel better." He begged. Gilbert sighed, but didn't argue.

"Thank you."

-.-.-+-.-.-

They spent the remainder of the day learning about each other's cultures. It was fascinating to find out what the humans had gotten right about the legendary merpeople, which was very little. But the merpeople had quite a few misconceptions of humans as well.

Matthew tried not to pay attention to his growing affection for his companion, bit it was becoming hard. While Gilbert had been overbearing and pushy at first, it turned out that he was really just a shy goofball trying to cover it up with a façade of confidence. And Matthew had to admit, it was a little endearing.

It helped that Gilbert seemed truly interested in him. He asked him questions and listened to the answers, wanted to know about Matthew personally, not just the whole human race. He wanted to know things he liked, what he did with his spare time. No one had really cared about Matthew for as long as he could think back.

That's what had gotten him in this whole mess in the first place. He didn't know why it was, but no one seemed to notice him. As far as most of the world was concerned, he might as well be invisible. His family tried, really they did. Alfred made time for him, tried to coax him out of his house. Francis would sit down and chat with him for a bit every once in a while. Arthur would send him presents a few days after his birthday.

But even they sometimes forgot about him. He couldn't count how many times he'd been left somewhere because they forgot that he was part of the group. How many taxies had he had to call to get a ride home? If he went on a trip, no one even noticed that he'd gone until he came back, excited to share stories. And no one remembered his stories, no matter how funny or traumatic they were. Everyone remembered the time Alfred had seen a bear while visiting Alaska, but no one could recall that Matthew had a scar from a run in with a moose when he'd gone to Finland.

He simply wasn't a memorable guy, and never had been. He tried not to let it get to him, but even he had his limits. And that's when he'd isolate himself and spend a night drinking away his sorrows. It wasn't the best coping method, but it worked for him, and happened rarely enough to not really be a hazard to his health. There were much worse things he could do then down a bottle of whiskey one night every six months or so.

Doing it on a boat hadn't been his wisest decision, but it was better than going on an angry rampage through the streets of Vancouver or screaming obscenities at his family. He knew they were trying.

But Gilbert was doing better than any of them had in years. Even when they were together, Matthew usually ended up watching whoever he was with drift away to some other task, and he'd leave feeling ignored and just as lonely as when he came.

But Gilbert was paying attention, kept his eyes on Matthew the whole time, nodding as his listened, offering his own information on occasion and laughing when it was appropriate. And he was retaining what he heard. He recalled that Matthew had accidentally put a fishing hook through his ear in his youth when he mentioned getting them pierced as a teen.

So could he really be blamed when he leaned into the merman, let him wrap his arm around his shoulder? When had anyone treated him as well as Gilbert was? It's not like he was the only human at sea; countless people traversed the water every day, and the merman could have grown bored of him and searched out someone more interesting.

But he stayed, and talked with him, and ran fingers through his wavy hair, and told him that he was cute. That was something he hadn't heard since he was six. But it filled him with a new warmth, and it was in perfect balance with the coolness of Gilbert's body, pressed against his side.

He watched the wounds sealing up more and more as the day passed, and almost wished it was taking longer. It was terrible of him, he knew, but if they stayed open longer, he could force the merman to stay by his side a bit longer.

When had the tables turned like that, he wondered. Wasn't it Gilbert that wanted him? But he could already feel an ache rising in his heart at the thought of parting from the merman, and that scared him. He'd agreed to be his mate because he knew that, as soon as he reached land, he could simply leave and never return. But now that he wanted his company, it was dawning on him how hard it could be to see the merman regularly.

He lived pretty close to the coastline, but it could be dangerous to see Gilbert when there was a chance of other people seeing him. Other humans would be more than excited by the idea of merpeople being real, and, if he was seen, it could be disastrous. Who knows what science would do with him if he was caught. But it wasn't like Matthew could just live at sea.

He dozed off against the bigger frame with these worried thoughts, just as the sun started to sink, and his sleep was fitful. He woke with a start several times, and Gilbert would have to spend a few minutes hushing him before he'd go back to sleep.

-.-.-+-.-.-

When dawn broke, Gilbert slid into the water. There was hardly an indication that he'd been wounded in the first place, so Matthew had no excuse to keep him in the boat. After a bit of collaborating, they managed to get a rope tied around Gilbert's waist, making it easier on him to pull the boat along. He didn't turn them around, so he didn't have to fight the current, but he'd still take a break every few hours, heaving himself into the boat to rest and talk to Matthew for a bit before getting back to work.

They spent two days like that, both of them sleeping in the boat at night. Matthew's supplies had dwindled; He was out of food, and had only half a bottle of water to nurse. But, just as he was starting to get scared, he glimpsed a shoreline. The sight was met with mixed feelings. He was glad to see land, of course. It meant food, water, and home. But it also meant he'd have to say goodbye to Gilbert.

He could tell, as he approached, that it wasn't the same dock he'd left from. For all he knew, it could be an entirely different country. He'd been in Canada when he'd started, but he could be anywhere after so much time. Well, not too far, but a decent distance. He'd begun to suspect that he was heading south though, as it had been getting warmer instead of colder.

Gilbert stopped just a little further than where they could be seen, and hauled himself into the boat. Matthew bit his lip, knowing what was coming. He wasn't prepared to say goodbye, but knew he couldn't stay. He needed to eat, and sleep, and tell his family that he was alive, if they'd noticed his disappearance. And the yacht owners probably wanted their boat back, at some point.

He dropped the anchor for the first time, halting the boat's movement, and opened his arms, holding the merman against him and letting himself be held in return.

"T-Thank you." He murmured, kissing the pale temple, a bit red with a sunburn that he hadn't been able to prevent. Gilbert grinned, but his heart wasn't in it.

"I told you I'd bring you back. Pretty awesome, right?" He laughed, but still, it wasn't reaching his eyes. Matthew smiled sadly, nodding.

"Definitely. Where are you going to go?" He wondered. Gilbert hummed.

"I should go let my brother know that I'm still alive, probably." He admitted. Matthew nodded.

"Me too." He agreed.

They were silent for a few minutes, just holding each other, then Gilbert pulled away.

"Well, come on. You're not going to rescue yourself." He quipped. Matthew huffed, letting the merman slip back into the water and drawing the anchor up.

Gilbert swam him closer, this time pushing from the back so he could swim off as soon as he was sure Matthew was in sight. Matthew could finally make out specific boats and began to feel a wave of familiarity. When he heard the first shouts, he rushed to the back of the yacht.

"Gil, they've seen me. I know where I am." He said, offering a smile. Gilbert could obviously tell how fake it was, for he only frowned.

"Then I should go." He supplied, backing off.

"W-Wait!" Matthew yelled, and he did, swimming back to the edge of the boat without a lick of hesitation.

Matthew leaned over, grabbing the merman's head and pulling him closer, pressing their lips together for a moment that was too short. But it was all they could afford. Already there were boats heading their way.

"I live north from here, in a place called Canada. The flag is red and white and has a leaf in the center. The dock nearest my house had this bright blue light that shines across the water, and there's a big sign that's been painted over with yellow facing the ocean." He recalled. It used to name the dock, but they'd sold it to a different company, and they'd never gotten around to renaming it.

"I'll find it. I'm awesome enough to do it." Gilbert promised, stealing another kiss before sinking into the water, just in time for the first speedboat to pull up alongside Matthew to ask if he was alright.

No one asked why he was crying. They likely assumed it was from relief, since he'd had quite a trip and not much food. They were all surprised when he told them where he'd come from, especially when he mentioned not having any fuel. But they proclaimed it a miracle, and called his brother as soon as he mentioned having one. It was a red-eye flight from New York, but Alfred got on the plane and was there in as few hours as he possibly could be.

Matthew couldn't remember the last time Alfred had hugged him so hard, or cussed him out for scaring him so bad. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Alfred cry, and didn't recall any instance where he'd been the cause of it.

And both Arthur and Francis called to check up on him, both promising to visit soon. It was nice to have the attention, but he wondered how long it was going to last. He was sure, once the shock wore off, things would go back to normal.

But Alfred took a couple weeks off of work and flew up to Canada with him, and stayed over, cooking dinner sometimes, or keeping him company while he 'recovered.' It was a nice gesture, but Matthew found himself antsy to go to the dock.

Since he couldn't, he began thinking of ways to make seeing Gilbert easier. He could get himself a nice, big boat and anchor a ways out, living there and coming back to land only for food. But that lifestyle didn't really suit him. He liked having a house to call his own, one that didn't move or threaten to capsize when a pod of dolphins decided to be assholes.

Then he remembered the old lighthouse. It was a ways away from shore, far enough away to be out of sight. They didn't use it, not since they'd built the new one, so it didn't even light up at night. They'd been trying to sell it for years.

It would be perfect. Gilbert wouldn't have to risk being seen by other humans, and Matthew could still have something of a house. It was built to house a small family, after all, so it had such essentials as a kitchen and bathrooms. And it was close enough to shore that he could easily traverse between the two for anything he might need.

He searched the web for information on it while Alfred watched some bad comedy on the television, and was ecstatic to learn that it was still for sale. With a bit of digging, he found out that everything was in working condition, and it would need minimal renovation. It was an investment, for sure. But he'd been saving his whole life, and could technically afford it, and a small motorboat. But that would be about all of his money, especially after paying to repair the yacht he'd accidentally stolen from a nice unsuspecting family. They were less than pleased to find Alfred's dingy fishing boat instead. He'd have to start his savings all over again. But then, what were savings for?

Alfred was oblivious to the fact that his brother had just sent an email to the agent in charge of the lighthouse, and would likely remain that way until Matthew had moved in. For once in his life, he appreciated that his actions went relatively unnoticed.

But now he needed to see Gilbert. He was desperate for it. He had a way to see him regularly now, and was more than ready to start doing just that. Call him naïve, but, damn it, he was in love! When had it happened? They'd only been together for a short time, and he knew better than to rush into something so fast. Rather, he thought he knew better. But then, he'd known better than to get on a boat when he was drunk, yet he'd done that too…

Well, if he was going to go against his own common sense anyway, he might as well do it in this situation too. Love wasn't a sensible thing, after all. Maybe it was premature, but there was something there, and it coiled in his stomach, refusing to let him think of anything that wasn't Gilbert.

He had to wait until, after going on a Tim Horton's binge and a subsequent sugar high, Alfred crashed, passed out on the couch and snoring. He took the opportunity to sneak away, racing towards the dock. The landmarks he'd offered as directions for Gilbert stood out as he passed them, and he finally came to the end of the longest part of the dock, looking out at the water hopefully. But he saw nothing.

He sat down, eyes still trained on the water, but doubt was starting to cloud his mind. Had he imagined it all? No, that was ridiculous. He couldn't have dreamed something so amazing, so realistic. The relationship he'd developed with Gilbert, even if only in a few days, was too precious to him not to be real. If he was going to believe in merpeople, then he'd be damned if he was going to let a little distance sway him.

And so he waited and waited, watching the sun sink below the horizon and the moon rise to take its place, and still, nothing. Just gently lapping waves and growing heartache. Had Gilbert been unable to find it? Had he found it and given up after Matthew hadn't shown up for several days? Had he even tried at all?

He yelped and fell backwards when a face popped out of the water. He started to cry when he heard some familiar cackling.

"Are you going to fall over every time you see me? I know my awesomeness is overpowering, but come on, Mattie…" He snickered. But he didn't get to say anything else and Matthew launched himself off of the dock, a splash resounding as he hit the water.

Gilbert managed to catch him, but they both sank under the water with his weight, and Matthew used the merman's surprise to steal a kiss, that more important to him than trying to get to the surface for air. Gilbert pulled him up, letting him gasp for a moment before crushing him in a hug, pressing more kisses to his lips when he could.

The seawater obscured most of the visibility his glasses might have offered, but that was alright. He didn't need to see Gilbert to hold him. It's not like he could wipe them on his clothes anyway, they were soaking wet. His bangs stuck to his face, and even his stubborn curl that insisted on being separate from the rest of his hair plastered to his skin.

"I found it." Gilbert announced when they parted to breathe, brushing his blonde hair from his face. Matthew giggled happily.

"You did." He agreed, nuzzling his face into the pale cheek that almost glowed in the etherealness of the moonlight. "Sorry if you waited for me. My brother is visiting." He explained, rolling his eyes. Gilbert laughed.

"You should have seen my brother. It was not awesome. I thought he was going to rip my fins off…" He groused. Matthew chuckled, finding his lips for another kiss.

"I'm sure it was terrible." He offered, smiling against the lips he'd just kissed. Gilbert smiled too.

"Not as terrible as having to let you go." He replied, and it took Matthew's already short breath away.

"Wow, Gilbert." He crooned, smiling.

"What?" The merman wondered, sounding concerned.

"I have to say," Matthew began, kissing the man again. "That line was pretty awesome."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm hoping I did alright with my first PruCan story! I was chatting with miss Terra Saltt, and asked what I should write. I was expecting her to say something like "Violet Eyes!" but instead I got this prompt. It was a little one. Canada gets drunk and wakes up on a yacht with no fuel in the middle of the ocean, and then Mer!Prussia comes along and is like "You gonna be my bitch now!"
> 
> I don't think she expected me to take her seriously. But this thing was born, so obviously I did. I'm pretty sure she expected it to be funnier, but it ended up being a little more heartfelt in my opinion. Oh well, I was in the zone.
> 
> So, like I said, this is my first time doing a PruCan story. We were talking about how there isn't much PruCan material, and most of what there is tends to be kind of… Well, the majority of the PruCan stories I manage to find have some darker themes, like suicide and cutting.
> 
> And I can understand where that comes from, sure, and I can even appreciate it. But I believe Matthew is made of tougher stuff than that. I think he'd be better at dealing with his loneliness and depression. I tried to bring that out in him throughout this story. He is still lonely, and a little bitter, but he doesn't let it affect him too much. He just deals with it in his own way, and moves on.
> 
> He just got unlucky (very lucky) this time.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you guys will tell me how I did with the pairing! I can only get better from here! Thanks for taking the time to read, and reviews are always appreciated!
> 
> KuroRiya
> 
> 九六りや


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